


I've got you under my Skin

by Redgillan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crying, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, Idiots in Love, Kindergarten Teacher Bucky Barnes, Mutual Pining, POV Bucky Barnes, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-11-06 15:19:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17942186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redgillan/pseuds/Redgillan
Summary: Modern!AU  We’ve been sleeping together on and off for almost a year and I know it’s angry hate sex but I got you a little gift because it reminded me of you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Weirdly, the sex part isn’t really important in this series. It’s more about feelings and how they grow and stuff.  
> Warnings: Language, +16 sex

 

Bucky leaned back against the bookcase while he kept a sharp eye on you. Sam and you were standing near the buffet table, chatting away. He was Natasha’s new boyfriend and Bucky couldn’t stand him. He disliked him for good reasons though. Sam was funny, easy-going and charming with everyone but him. He always mocked Bucky and it never failed to make you laugh, which infuriated Bucky even more.

Bucky had a complicated relationship with you. You had met in college but the only reason you still hung out five years later was because his best friend was married to your former roommate.

At first, he pretended you didn’t exist, but it didn’t last long. You were independent-minded and had a sharp tongue –something he admired but wouldn’t openly admit. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to argue, fists clenched and teeth bared.

One day, the inevitable happened. You settled the argument up against a wall with your skirt bunched up around your waist and his jeans pulled down to his knees. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t soft. It was just sex, releasing pent-up energy, and it had calmed you both enough to make it through the rest of the evening.

After that it became a regular occurrence, an easy way to deal with hectic work days, family quarrels or anything that might have upset one of you.

Sam leaned forward and whispered something in your ear, all while stealing glances at Bucky who was pretending to ignore the two of you. You glanced furtively at him and snickered. Bucky had not realized his fly was open.

Deep inside, he was fuming.  _Immature jerks!_  He felt like he was back in high school after some girls made fun of him for only wearing sweatpants. “Everybody wears jeans now,” one of them had said while the others laughed.

When Sam joined Natasha and Steve, Bucky grinned mischievously. Now you were alone,  _defenceless_ , and he knew exactly how to push your buttons. Oh, he could be childish too.

He strutted over to the buffet table where you were pouring yourself a glass of homemade sangria. Once he was close enough, he deliberately bumped his shoulder against yours, knocking you forward and making you spill the ladleful of sangria onto your hand instead of into the plastic cup.

“Oops, my bad,” came his teasing reply.

You gritted your teeth and bit back a snarky comeback. He was standing close to you, so close you could feel his breath on your neck. You took a napkin and dried your hands, determined not to let him get under your skin.

But he made it  _so damn hard_.

He could tell you were trying to ignore him. While you were pouring yourself a new glass of sangria, he shoved a few tortilla chips into his mouth and started chewing loudly with his mouth open.

You knew he was baiting you, but you were too annoyed to care. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you whirled around and threw your drink in his face.

“Oops, my bad,” you repeated, mocking his tone.

The buzz of conversation quieted and Bucky could feel his friends’ eyes on him. The look he gave you was positively feral but you didn’t back away from him, instead, you kept your head high. “ _Your move_ ,” you seemed to say.

Bucky blinked, droplets of pinkish alcohol clinging to his eyelashes. You tilted your head to one side, faux concern shading your features. With a ridiculous pout, you dabbed at his soaked shirt with the napkin you had been using to clean your hands.

He was breathing hard, his shirt clinging to his shoulders and chest in the most sinful way. Bucky towered over you, tall and menacing. He wanted you so badly right now.

Peggy shouted your name in a scolding tone before she grabbed your hand and pulled you away from Bucky. Steve shot you a dirty look as he walked past you, holding a clean shirt in his fist.

Bucky took the shirt from Steve without taking his eyes off you. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

“You okay, man?”

Bucky turned to Steve and nodded. “All good. Mind if I use your room?” he asked, waving the clean shirt.

“Sure.”

As Bucky crossed the living room, he overheard Peggy asking you to apologise. Though it was more of a command than a request.

Alone in the bedroom, Bucky unbuttoned his shirt and let out a sigh of relief when the soaked material was no longer clinging to his skin. His movements were slow, unhurried. He brought the shirt to his nose, the smell of bitter wine and orange juice filling his senses.

He slipped his arms into the sleeves of the new shirt and pulled the fabric over his shoulders when he heard a knock at the door.

“Peggy says I have to apologise,” you said, closing the door behind you. “So here we go. My apologises.”

Bucky stood there, his shirt unbuttoned, and cocked a brow at you.

“No really,” you continued, “I’m sorry you’re a jerk.”

“You’re hilarious,” he deadpanned.

He walked slowly, backing you up against the door, his eyes never leaving yours. He pinned you with a look, one you knew well.  _Do you want to do this?_  You nodded.

You only had three rules: no kissing – _it leads to feelings_ , always use protection – _don’t wanna catch something_ , and the most important one: consent – _just because you piss me off doesn’t mean I’m gonna have sex with you_.

He felt your warm breath on his lips when he started trailing his fingers along the skin just above the waistband of your jeans.

“You had to wear jeans today,” he sighed, sounding frustrated.

“I’m also wearing tights,” you replied. He gave you an exasperated look. “What? Oh, I’m sorry if my winter outfit is getting in the way of your kinky fantasy but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s the middle of February. I’m freezing.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, shaking his head. “Just turn around.”

“So romantic.” You rolled your eyes, but got into position. You slid your jeans and tights down to your knees and braced yourself against the door. Looking over your shoulder, you saw him roll a condom down his length. “Thank you for making me feel special,” you said sarcastically.

“Shaddap,” he grumbled. His voice was gruff with a tinge of embarrassment, most likely due to his previous caveman outburst.

“You, shut up.”

He grabbed your hips and entered you in one swift motion. Your gasp caught in your throat and you let your forehead drop with a soft thud against the wood.

Bucky’s naked torso was pressed against your back, your soft jumper tickling his skin. He placed his hand over your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“I know I’m good, but please, keep it down,” he taunted, rolling his hips. You tilted your head back to glare at him. “Quit lookin’ at me like that! I know you like it. So wet,” he hummed appreciatively, “it’s runnin’ down your thighs. Is that all for me?”

You reached behind you and pinched his butt cheek. Hard.

“OW!” The sudden flash of pain made him surge forward and you both groaned in ecstasy. The tension coiled tighter and tighter. Bucky thought he was going to explode.

“Saw you with Sam earlier,” he grunted in your ear. “You two are best friends now? You enjoy makin’ fun of me with your new best friend?” he asked in a breathless voice, his breath fanning across your neck. “Yeah, who’s laughin’ now?”

His nose scrunched up when he felt your warm tongue lick his palm. This could only mean one thing:  _shut up_.

He picked up the pace, his confidence boosted when you arched your back and moaned against his hand. He wrapped his free arm around your middle and held you against him until your body became limp.

Bucky dropped his forehead to your shoulder, sighed, and then took his hand off your mouth.

“You talk too much,” you said in a throaty whisper while you patted the top of his head. He snorted. “Next time, I’ll gag you.”

“Promises, promises,” he replied with a smirk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is part 2, hope you all enjoy this :) Please, let me know if you enjoy this story <3

 

“Feeling better?” you asked, breathless, while you clambered off Bucky’s lap.

He let his head fall back against your couch and ran his hands through his hair, a long sigh leaving his lips. Basking in post-coital bliss, he kept his eyes closed for a little while longer so he could pretend that everything was fine.

The answer to your question was complicated. Physically, he felt better, though it was most likely due to the dopamine coursing through his veins. But he still felt emotionally raw.

A few hours ago, he had join his parents and sisters for their weekly Sunday lunch. He didn’t particularly like family brunches.

His mother had been nagging him for years to settle down and have children. He often evaded her questions. “ _Excellent dinner, ma’!”_  or “ _Did you know Becca bought a $1500 rug?”_

This time, though, his father had been the one nagging him.

_“You’re a kindergarten teacher with a Master’s degree in mathematics, son! You’re wasting your life. Remember when you wanted to work for NASA? I had such high hopes for you, kid, instead you’re doing a woman’s job.”_

Bucky had stormed out of the house, ignoring his mother and sisters pleas to stay, and drove to the only place he knew where he could unwind.

You had not been surprised to see him. He stared at you, breathing hard, a muscle in his jaw ticking.  You knew his anger wasn’t directed at you. Clearing a path for him, you wordlessly invited him in. He needed to release his anger and you were more than happy to help.

“I’m all right,” Bucky finally answered, opening his eyes. He watched you pull your pyjamas bottoms up.

“Awesome,” you said blankly, “ok, well, I won’t keep you.”

He removed the condom and deftly tied it, dropping it on the floor for disposal later. He quickly pulled up his jeans and buttoned them.

“You busy?” he asked, nodding toward the open laptop and the stack of papers on your kitchen counter. “Sorry, I should’ve called.”

You snorted. “Nah, it’s fine. I needed a break anyway.”

“Always happy t’help,” he said.

The room fell into a strangely comfortable silence while you both adjusted your clothes, trying to look more decent. You noticed that he wasn’t wearing his usual shit eating grin. He looked disturbed.

“Barnes,” you said with a small sigh. “Your father’s an idiot.”

Bucky frowned at your words. “I –I don’t remember tellin’ you ‘bout him. How’d you know?”

“We all know you visit your parents every Sunday. When your mom pisses you off you usually complain to Steve. But when it’s your dad, you always come here.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed. “You’re very observant.”

“I’ve become quite good at reading others,” you replied with a smirk. “It’s what I do. I need to know what people are thinking if I want to close the deal.”

“I’m sure they’re happy to have you,” he told you, his words genuine.

“Why, thank you.” You smiled before your expression grew more serious. “Wanna talk about it? What’s bothering you?”

Bucky waved a dismissive hand at you. “I’m fine,” he paused. “I mean… my old man thinks I’m wastin’ my time doin’ a  _woman’s job_ , but I’m fine.”

He wasn’t fine, but he didn’t think you’d want to hear what really bothered him. You weren’t exactly friends. So why should you care about him?

He glanced at you and found you already looking at him, your expression a combination of anger and sadness. Your eyes met his, and Bucky saw you hide your emotions behind a neutral mask. You had that in common.  _Don’t let anyone get too close._

“Who cares what he thinks?” you said. “It’s your life, not his. You have nice friends, your own apartment, a good job… He shouldn’t shove his dreams down your throat. He should be happy for you. You’re a functioning adult-” you smirked, “-sometimes.”

Bucky sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and let a small laugh pass his lips. “Yeah, guess you’re right.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to check the time. “Mind if I take a shower? I’m supposed to babysit for Steve and Peg t’night, but I’m runnin’ a little late and I smell… well, like you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, but don’t use up all the hot water.”

With a salute, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the water so it could get hot. Meanwhile, he removed his shirt and went over to the sink where he stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection.

He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and snapped a quick shirtless picture of himself before he placed his phone on the bathroom countertop. True to his word, he didn’t spend a long time in the shower even though it felt nice and your body wash smelled incredible.

Once he was dressed, he joined you in the living room.

“I’m going to take a shower now. Close the door behind you when you leave,” you said, as you walked past him, pausing a second to sniff the air. “And for the record, you still smell like me.”

You disappeared into the bathroom before he could think of a good comeback. With a shake of his head, he picked up his coat and opened the front door. He then realized he had forgotten his phone in the bathroom.

Cursing under his breath, he slammed the front door closed and blew out an annoyed sigh. He had half a mind to go over to the bathroom and knock on the door, but it was useless as he could hear the water running.

Defeated, and hungry, he decided to rummage through your pantry. He opened a box of cookies and stuffed two biscuits into his mouth while he looked around your apartment. He browsed through your bookshelves, his head tilted to the side reading book spines.

You had a few knickknacks here and there, which included a landscape painting with the initials SGR in the bottom left corner. There were several framed pictures on the walls. Some of them made Bucky laugh.

He walked along the wall, looking at each photo, and leaving a trail of cookie crumbs behind him. He was surprised to find a picture of himself amongst your friends.

He looked a little younger, maybe 25 or 26, his skin was pale and he was so drunk his eyes were glassy. You often teased him because you thought he looked like a vampire and, in return, he pretended to bite your neck. Somehow, someone had captured this moment. It made Bucky smile.

As he wandered around the apartment, he realized he’d never been in your bedroom before. Your room was small, but cosy and calming. It was strangely neat: no pictures on the bedside table or on the walls, no books or artworks.

Bucky took a closer look at something that caught his attention. There was a small collection of snow globes on your dresser, and as he picked up one and turned it over in his hands, he noticed that there was no dust on them. You must really love these little things –that or you were a neat freak.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you had finished your shower. However, he definitely heard your piercing cry before you threw an empty bottle of shampoo at him. It hit him square in the face.

“Ow,” he whined, rubbing his nose.

“Barnes,” you said, your voice breathless with relief. “You scared me! I thought you were gone! I heard the door.”

“Yeah, but I forgot my phone in your bathroom,” he explained with a crooked smile.

You tightened the robe around you. “Why the hell did you take your phone to the bathroom?”

“After sex selfie,” he replied as if it were obvious.

You rolled your eyes as you crossed the room and bent down to pick up the empty bottle. You were going to say something when your eyes landed on the box of cookies he was holding.

“You went through my stuff?” you accused, snatching the box from him. It was empty. “This was my last box!”

With a lopsided grin, he stuffed the last biscuit into his mouth. “Almost as good as you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are people always eating pizza in my fics? Anyway in this chapter, you’ll see some Kindergarten teacher!Bucky bc I couldn’t help myself. Hope you enjoy this, let me know what you think :)

 

Bucky stood in front of the class, his students reciting the alphabet in unison. They were sitting cross-legged on the carpet, looking up at the smart board with mild interest. They could hear people gathering in the hallway, signalling the end of the day.

From the corner of his eye, Bucky saw a shadow run across the deserted playground. He turned his head just in time to see you opening the front door. The sound of your high heels clicking rapidly across the linoleum floor brought a grin to his lips.

Steve had texted him earlier and asked if he didn’t mind taking care of his daughter after school. He couldn’t leave the precinct, something about a solving a major case, and Peggy was in London, visiting family.

Normally, Bucky didn’t mind babysitting Sophie. She was a student in Bucky’s class, and also his Goddaughter, but today, he had a meeting with other teachers. They were discussing details of their upcoming field trip to Washington.

Steve asked you if you could watch over Sophie until Bucky was able to leave work, and you agreed, even though you had an important meeting the next day.

Bucky could see you through the window beside the door and he laughed to himself when you sagged against the wall, out of breath.

He realized that you had come straight from the office and had not had time to change clothes. Your business outfit was simple, but the pencil skirt and high heels commanded respect. Bucky always found it strangely exhilarating.

He said goodbye to each kid individually, giving them either a hug or a high five. Meanwhile you were growing frustrated and impatient because Bucky seemed to take his sweet time. Yes, you were upset and it had  _absolutely nothing_  to do with the conversation you had overheard before Bucky opened the door.

 _“Damn, that is a man right there!”_  one of the dads had said.  _“He’s so sweet with the kids and he looks so soft,”_ one of the moms agreed, the others made a needy sound in the back of their throat.  _“I bet he’s into some kinky shit,_ ” said another mom, giving a little eyebrow pump as she said it. “ _Mr Barnes in the streets, Daddy in the sheets.”_

You wanted to scream. And the worst part was that they weren’t wrong. Everyone adored Bucky –well everyone but you. He had an athlete’s physique, tall, broad-shouldered and powerful, and today, as you watched him high five a little girl, you realized he looked incredibly cuddly in that cable-knit sweater.

Bucky turned to you when the kids and their guardians were gone. Sophie was sitting at his desk, eating some biscuits. She greeted you with a toothy smile.

“You’re an ass, Barnes,” you grumbled when you walked past him.

Sophie pointed her finger at you. “You said a bad word,” she exclaimed with her mouth full.

Bucky grinned mischievously at you.

If a kid used inappropriate language, he calmly explained to them why they shouldn’t curse. Some teachers still had ‘naughty corners’ but Bucky believed that making a child stand in a corner for several minutes was humiliating. You, on the other hand, were an adult, and he  _loved_ riling you up.

“This is unacceptable,” Bucky said, using his teacher voice. “Go stand in the corner for five minutes!”

His words made Sophie gasp, her small hands coming up to cover her mouth. Bucky kept his expression blank while resisting the urge to laugh.

You stared at him, blinking slowly. “You serious?”

He nodded. “I sure am, doll.”

You gritted your teeth. He wasn’t sure what made you angrier, the naughty corner thing or the nickname. With a defeated sigh, you walked over to the corner of the room and threw him a dirty look over your shoulder before you faced the wall.

Smiling brightly, Bucky pulled out his phone and took a picture of you, making a mental note to post it on the group chat later.

“Okay, Soph,” he turned to the child. She had chocolate all over her mouth. “Time t’go home. Go wash your face, bug.”

Thankfully, she did not have to leave the classroom to use the restroom so she didn’t need an adult with her. Once she had shut the door behind her, Bucky made his way over to you. He let his eyes linger on your legs.

“I gotta say,” he whispered in your ear, “I’ve always had a thing for women in straight skirt and high heels. That’s kinda hot.”

“You know what else is kinda hot?” you whispered in a faux sultry tone, then continued without missing a beat, “My foot in your ass.”

He chuckled, his warm breath tickling your neck. “You’re not allowed to use your phone in the naughty corner,” he said, nodding toward the phone in your hand. “You’re grounded.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to stare at the wall for five minutes,” you replied with a sigh. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

He stepped away from you, walking backwards toward his desk. “Meetin,” he said, scrunching his nose up in distaste. “I’ll see ya later.”

*

Bucky climbed the stairs to Steve’s apartment, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He was in a good mood, his meeting hadn’t taken as long as he’d expected. He had dropped by his apartment to pack an overnight bag and arrived at Steve’s place just after seven.

“Aw,” your face fell when you opened the door and saw him, “I thought it was the delivery guy.”

“Tadaa!” Bucky held up the pizza box. “I was behind him when you buzzed him in.”

“You paid.”

“No, I grabbed the box and ran away,” Bucky deadpanned. “Of course, I paid.”

“It wasn’t a question,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “Well, I guess I should thank you, but since you ate my entire box of cookies the other day-”

“Talk ‘bout holdin a grudge,” Bucky cut you off, setting the box on the coffee table, “t’was two months ago.”

You sat next to each other on the sofa. Bucky handed you a few napkins before he lifted the lid. He had been craving pizza all day so this was a happy coincidence.

“Are you fuckin kiddin me?” he groaned, looking down at the pizza. “Spinach? Who the fuck puts spinach on a pizza?”

You leaned forward and picked up a slice, ignoring his offended look. “Gotta eat your greens.”

“Doll, I eat plenty of greens,” he said with a pointed look. “Here’s a list of things you’re not allowed to put on pizza.” Holding up his fingers, he enumerated, “Pineapple –no. Cauliflower –no. Spinach –big fuckin no.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think I was going to start World War III.”

“Seriously though,” he continued, undeterred, “stop turnin junk food into healthy food. What’s up with that trend?”

“Just pick them off and stop whining,” you sighed.

“Spinach on pizza is like toothpaste and orange juice,” he kept rambling, “it’s pretty gross.”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry, but who drinks OJ immediately after brushing their teeth? That’s just dumb.”

He gave you an annoyed look. “Ok, fair enough. So I guess it’s like-” he trailed off while he tried to think of a new example, “it’s like vampires and garlic. It will kill you.”

You snorted. “Now, that’s an exaggeration!” Bucky turned his head to look at you, a glint of mischief in his bright blue eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He didn’t answer. “Stop it!” He didn’t stop.

Bucky bared his teeth and hissed like a vampire. He used to this when you were in college, it annoyed the hell out of you. He bit back a grin when your eyes widened. You wrapped your hands protectively around your neck and shook your head.

“Don’t you dare!”

He pounced on you so suddenly that you let out a high-pitched scream. He fell on top of you and jokingly tried to bite your neck. You squirmed under him, your legs twisted at odd angles.

“Jerk,” you said, laughing.

Bucky dropped the act and laughed with you, planting his hands on the sofa on either side of your head. You turned your head to face him and his laughter quieted down. You were so close that he could see the flecks of colour in your eyes. He kept his eyes on yours, unable to move.

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, but the disobedient strand didn’t stay there. It tickled your cheekbone as Bucky leaned into your touch. It was soft, warm, real.

Something was changing between you. He wondered if you could feel it too.

“What are you doing?”

You pulled away from each other as Sophie walked into the living room. Bucky felt dizzy, his pulse pounding in his ears. Sophie rubbed one eye with her fist while she made her way toward the sofa.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you asked, avoiding her question.

“I heard noises,” she replied, clumsily climbing into Bucky’s lap. “Is my daddy home?”

“Not yet,” you said, gently tucking a curly strand behind her ear.

Your hand froze in mid-air, the gesture felt oddly familiar. When you looked up to meet Bucky’s eyes, he was already looking at you. It dawned on the two of you that you had shared something special, something innocent and sweet.

You cleared your throat. “Now that Uncle Bucky’s here, I’m gonna go home.”

“No, stay!” the little girl begged. “I want to watch a movie.”

“Stay,” Bucky mouthed the word but no sound came out. “Stay until she falls asleep.”

It didn’t take you long to decide. “I’ll stay.”

You settled back into the sofa cushions and took the remote, aiming it at the television. You laughed at something Sophie said and Bucky felt his heart lurch.  _Goddammit_ , he thought. He had some thinking to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gift has finally arrived! I lured you with the sex but now you’re stuck with the feels lol Anyway I hope you enjoy this part. Please consider leaving feedback if you like this!

 

It was Friday night and Natasha had invited some of her friends and colleagues over for dinner. The party in itself was boring. 

At work, Natasha had a reputation for being mysterious and she was adamant about keeping this bossy persona even though you all knew she was a huge dork. Her colleagues were terrified of her, and Bucky had to admit, it was pretty funny.

Bucky entered the kitchen and paused when he saw you. You were standing at the kitchen table with an assortment of washed vegetables in front of you. You were busy chopping vegetables into little sticks.

Things had been awkward between you after that night you spent babysitting Steve’s kid. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel your fingers on his cheek, your body pressed close to his.

You only had sex once after that night. It happened at his apartment after you had had a difficult day at work. He had taken you up against the door, no words had been exchanged at all. It had left him feeling dirty. Empty.

He wanted more than meaningless hate-sex, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted exactly. And, most importantly, he wasn’t sure what  _you_  wanted.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Nat put you to work?”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Apparently I’m not allowed to tell her colleagues she adopted a stray dog because it would-” still holding the knife, you raised your fingers to make exaggerated air quotes “-blow her cover.”

“Yeah, she’s clearly enjoyin herself,” he said, stepping closer to you. “Y’know, m’pretty sure that’s some kind of kinky roleplayin shit. Sam’s been called her ‘ _ma’am_ ’ all night.”

“Nutjobs,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Bucky said, not quite touching you, but close enough that you could feel his body heat. “His crazy matches her crazy. It’s romantic in a sort of twisted way.”

The shy smile you gave him made his heart stutter. He tried not to dwell on it. Instead, he took a knife and helped you cut the carrots into little sticks.

He didn’t say a word, but the silence between you was comfortable. It was probably the first time you felt comfortable in each other’s presence.

Once you were done, Bucky playfully bumped his hip against yours. It caught your attention so you put the knife on the table and turned to him.

“I have somethin for you,” he said with a nervous grin.

“For me?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

Bucky reached a trembling hand into his bomber jacket pocket for the box he had decided, at the last minute, to take with him. Your eyes widened when he handed you a little white box with a baby pink ribbon tied around it.

“It’s heavier than it looks,” you commented with a laugh. “What is it?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I hate when people ask that. Open it ‘nd find out.”

“Okay, relax,” you laughed, pinching the end of the ribbon, untying it. “I’m opening it.”

Inside was a silver snow globe with miniature representations of the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, the Flatiron Building and the Chrysler Building. The base was engraved with the New York City skyline.

Bucky was holding his breath, your lack of reaction was making him even more nervous. You just stared at the snow globe, unmoving. The silence was too loud, he had to say something.

“It’s a snow globe,” Bucky explained as if it wasn’t obvious. “My sister’s boyfriend never visited New York so we took him to all the tourist spots. I saw your collection of snow globes on your dresser the other day and I noticed you don’thave one from New York and it’s dumb ‘cause we live in New York,” he paused, nearly breathless, “so when I saw it in the shop, I thought you might like it but it’s fine if you don-”

“I love it.”

He stopped rambling and briefly wondered if he sounded as creepy as he felt. He had no idea he could talk even half that fast.

“Thank you,” you said, not looking at him.

Your voice was strained, quiet. Bucky tilted his head to the side so he could see you better. You were still staring at the snow globe, your eyes shiny with tears. It threw him off for a second. Why were you crying?

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

He took the snow globe from your hands and placed it on the table. You made a sound of protest, your eyes following his movement. There was panic in your eyes as if you expected him to give it to someone else.

“Let’s just put this aside for now, okay?” He took your hands in his so you had something to hold onto. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong? Whatever you say will stay between us.”

Staring down at your joined hands, you took a deep breath. “I’m fine, it’s okay.”

He freed one of his hands to gently lift your chin up. You allowed him to do that, though you still avoided his piercing blue eyes.

“Did I do somethin wrong?” he asked. “I can see you’re upset and I’m really sorry. I was tryin t’be nice,” he paused, “for once.” A big cheeky grin spread across his face when you snorted.

You took a small step back, putting some distance between you and him. Bucky didn’t mind. He would have done the same thing if the situation were reversed. You needed a moment to collect yourself. He respected that.

“It’s not you,” you finally said. “It’s the… the snow globes. They’re special,” you paused, debating whether to continue. Bucky listened avidly to anything you said. You gave him a long look as if to determine whether you could trust him.

“My best friend gave them to me when we were younger. She was travelling a lot,” you explained. “I wasn’t a big fan of these things. They were kinda useless, only collecting dust on my shelves. But now I’m old enough to admit I was jealous of her,” you said with a little laugh before your face fell. “They’re important because it’s all I have left of her. She’s gone.”

You ended your story with a little shrug, but Bucky saw right through your brave façade. You pressed your lips together and stayed quiet for a few long, painful seconds. He didn’t dare move.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks. He stared at you, not knowing what to do. He’d never seen you look so vulnerable, and yet you were still trying hard to keep your composure.

Your chin started quivering and a fat tear rolled down your cheek. His protective instincts stirred. Bucky immediately went to you and pulled you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held on just as tightly as he held you.

Your tears flowed, soaking the collar of his shirt. They fell in hot tracks down your cheeks; warm and strangely soothing. Your breathing slowed and the tension eased from your muscles.

Bucky held you and rocked you gently, swaying from side to side. His body was warm and solid against yours.

After a moment, you pulled back but Bucky kept you close. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the trail of tears.

“Sorry,” you whispered, sniffing, “I don’t usually lose control like this.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “Feels good to cry sometimes.”

Bucky wiped snot from your nose with his sleeve. He smiled when he heard your tiny groan of embarrassment.

“I never told this story to anyone before,” you said, not quite meeting his eyes.

“It’ll stay between us,” he promised.

“I feel like an idiot.” You laughed lightly, wiping away a few stray tears as they rolled down your cheeks. “Thanks for not laughing at me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. Yes, you had a complicated relationship but he would never make fun of you for something like this.

“Give me your hand,” he said, extending his palm.

You complied without hesitation and it made his heart do funny things. He folded his hand around your fingers and brought your hand to his chest. He slipped your joined hands under his shirt and guided them to his bare shoulder.

“Do you feel this?” he asked, pressing your fingers over a long, bumpy scar. “Almost lost my arm when I was ten. Some punk ass kids beat the crap outta me. My parents took me to the ER but I never told anyone what had happened. Not even Steve. These kids bullied me for months. It was hell.”

You ran your fingers over the scar again. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know,” he nodded, a smile on his lips.

You frowned at him and reached up to brush a tear from his cheek. “Why are you crying?”

“Dunno.” Bucky shrugged. “I feel like an asshole. Didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

“Same here,” you said with a smile. “Damn, we’re stuck in a loop.”

He let out an airy laugh. “Fuckin vicious circle.”

He reluctantly let go of your hand. You couldn’t think of anything to say, and to fill the awkward silence between you, you took the snow globe and gave it a good shake. You watched with a smile as the snow swirled around the miniature monuments.  

“I’m gonna go home.” You pressed the snow globe against your chest, hoping he’d understand you were incredibly grateful for it. “Thank you, Bucky. I love it.” You took a step closer and kissed his cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary.

Bucky stood frozen, feeling like someone had turned the heat up in his chest. He was seeing you in a different light. You had allowed him to see you at your most vulnerable, giving him a part of yourself you always kept hidden deep inside. You trusted him.

In return, he opened up to you, trusting you completely.

You were walking out of the room when he shook himself out of his self-induced trance. “Wait!” He turned around to face you. He didn’t want to let you go.

_Let me drive you home. I think I ruined a good opportunity to show you I care for you. I don’t like seein you cry. It fuckin kills me._

That’s what he tried to say, but no sound came out of his mouth. You were frowning at him, concern etched on your face.

“I know,” he spoke, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I know you and I have a… complicated friendship but I,” he paused, his stomach was in knots, “-please text me when you get home, all right?”

A smile spread across your face. “You worried about me?”

“What if I am?” he questioned back defensively.

Your smirk softened into a real smile. “I’ll text you.”

You waved goodbye and left, your footsteps echoing on the wooden floor as you made your way back to the living room.

Alone in the kitchen, Bucky slumped down in a chair. He felt a burst of heat coil low in his stomach. He sighed, running a hand down his face. Yeah, he had it bad, and now he had to do something about it or he’d lose his goddamn mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another party, another gift, but this time with actual feelings and the promise of something more. Thank you for your support, hope you enjoy the penultimate chapter!
> 
> PS. The finale might be a week late bc I want to do it right and it's currently too raw.

 

Sam threw a party for Natasha’s birthday the weekend after Bucky and his class got back from their trip to Washington DC. It had been over a month since he last saw you, but Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about you.

There was chemistry between you, and he wanted more than a physical relationship. He wasn’t sure how, but he had developed feelings for you.

Now all he had to do was get past his fear of losing you, and tell you how he felt. He’d never been good at expressing his feelings and he didn’t quite know how to put them into words.

Steve plumped down on the sofa next to him, interrupting his train of thought. He held out a bottle of beer to his friend but Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, thanks. I brought my bike t’night. Don’t wanna crash it.”

Steve nodded but didn’t say a word. Bucky could tell there was more he wanted to say. He frowned when Steve began picking at the label on the bottle. It was one of his many nervous quirks.

“I know you wanna say something, so say it,” Bucky mumbled.

Steve turned his head to look at him, then his eyes darted to the keychain in Bucky’s hand. “It’s cute. Is that from D.C?”

Bucky sighed. “Yes.”

“You gonna give it to someone?”

“What’s with the interrogation, Detective Rogers?” Bucky asked with a little grin. “I thought you were off duty.”

“Hilarious,” Steve deadpanned, taking a swig of beer. “You know, at the academy they tell you that when suspects answer questions with questions, it usually means they’re trying to hide something.”

“I’m not hidin anythin. You know me, I’m an open book.”

“Uh-uh.”

They both fell silent. Bucky was playing with the keychain in his hand, his knee bouncing up and down. Steve followed the direction of Bucky’s gaze and found you sitting by the window. He smiled knowingly.

“You know,” Steve spoke after a moment, “Sophie told me something interesting the other day.”

“Yeah?” Bucky replied, only half listening.

“She said that you almost kissed her favorite aunt.”

Bucky turned to Steve. “She didn’t say that.”

Steve shrugged. “Not exactly. She said you were on the couch tickling each other and then you stopped and had a staring contest. I’m not five, I connected the dots.”

“Great solve, Detective Rogers,” Bucky grumbled.

“Buck,” he sighed, “I don’t like meddling, that’s Nat’s thing, but I see the way you look at her. Don’t wait too long, you never know what might happen.”

“I don’t-” Bucky started, struggling to put his feelings into words. “I’m not- I can’t…” He groaned, closing his eyes, giving up.

“You like her,” Steve said with an encouraging smile.

“No,” Bucky replied but before Steve could object, he continued, “I think I’m in love with her.”

“Oh…”

Bucky laughed, though it held no humour. “Yeah, now I guess I have to break the news t’her without freakin her out. Got any tips, Steve?”

“You know I’m clueless when it comes to women.” They both laughed at this. Steve slung his arm over his friend’s shoulders. “Talk to her before I tell Nat what I saw in her kitchen the other night.” He gave him a pointed look.

So as it turned out Steve had seen the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms. Bucky sighed. He didn’t need Natasha’s constant meddling. No, his life was complicated enough.

“That’s low, Rogers, even for you,” Bucky joked, a worried frown on his face.

Steve shrugged in response and patted Bucky on the back. “Cheer up, Buck.”

Bucky gave Steve one last glance before he made his way over to you. His legs were on autopilot and his heart was thumping in his chest, but somehow he managed to keep his expression neutral.

He held the keychain tight in his closed fist and sat next to you on the windowsill, the two of you facing forward. Steve had challenged Sam, who was wearing Natasha’s birthday crown, to a dance off. No one was paying attention to you or Bucky.

“Hey,” Bucky said, bumping his shoulder against yours. You could barely hear him over the racket. “How’re you?”

You smiled at him. “Good. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Miss me?” he asked jokingly.

“Yes,” you deadpanned, looking him straight in the eye.

Bucky’s heart tripped dangerously. He felt as if he was on a rollercoaster, when the car tips over the top of the hill and plunges down the loop and it feels like you weigh less than a feather.

“I missed you, too.”

You must have sensed the tension between you because you quickly steered the conversation to safer ground. “How was D.C?”

He cleared his throat and gave you a smile before answering, “Hectic, but nice. Thirty kids, three adults; you kinda wish you were an octopus.”

You both laughed at the mental image it put in your heads.

It felt strange –making small talk with you. It wasn’t unpleasant, just different. There was so much he wanted to tell you but he couldn’t find the right words.

“By the way,” you said, breaking the silence between you, “I wanted to thank you for sharing your story with me the other night. I know that must have been difficult.”

Bucky’s hand instinctively went to his shoulder where his scar was. Painful memories. But then he remembered the delicate touch of your fingers as you had traced the line of his scar. It had been comforting, soothing.

He turned his head toward the makeshift dance floor where Sam and Steve were arguing while doing the Running Man. Bucky sighed. He couldn’t pour his heart out while these two doofuses were having a dance off in the background.

“You okay?” You gently touched his arm. “You look upset. Is it something I said?”

Bucky blinked a few times, trying to clear his thoughts, and turned to meet your gaze. There was genuine worry in your eyes, and it made his stomach ache.

“No,” he quickly replied, shaking his head. “In fact-” he swallowed hard “I think you’re the only one keeping me sane.”

Feeling a little brave, he inched his hand closer and closer to yours, until they touched. You looked down at your hand, then back up at him, observing him closely.

He slid his hand under your own and pressed a small, round object into your palm. You folded your fingers over the warm metal while holding Bucky’s gaze.

“In case you want to start a new collection,” he whispered into your ear. He pulled away from you, his lips brushing your temple. “Can I stop by your place later?”

He wanted to talk, in private, but he was terrified. He was scared that you might not share his feelings or that you didn’t want more than casual angry sex. And he was so nervous that he didn’t realize that it was the question he would ask every time he wanted to have sex with you.

He also didn’t notice the disappointed look on your face and the way your smile didn’t reach your eyes when you nodded. It wasn’t clear whether his feelings for you were changing or if he just wanted to have sex.

Once he was gone, you looked down at your hand and saw a Capitol Hill Building keychain, the words ‘United States, Washington D.C.’ were engraved on the gold toned oval.

“Bucky Barnes,” you muttered to yourself, “you’ll be the death of me.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so this is absolutely cheesy and I’m not even sorry. I thought they were going to do the do but nope they decided not to, so it’s pretty PG. Hope you enjoy this last chapter and thank you to everyone who commented on this story, I love you.

 

You started to pace back and forth in front of your door, waiting for Bucky. You lived in a quiet neighbourhood and it was already fairly late so you easily picked up the sound of his bike. It sent your heart racing.

You wanted to be more than a booty call, and sometimes it felt like your relationship was evolving, but you weren’t so sure since Bucky kept sending you mixed signals. It was a little frustrating. You had to have an honest conversation with him. You needed to know where you stood. The only problem was that talking about your feelings made your skin crawl.

Three knocks at your door pulled you out of your reverie. You blinked yourself back to the present and went to open the door. There he was, standing in front of you with his motorcycle helmet in hand, the man who had stolen your heart.

A twinge of anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach, and you realised that you weren’t brave enough to face your feelings. Instead, you grabbed his arm and pulled him into your apartment, slamming the door behind him.

_Old habits die hard…_

Bucky dropped his helmet on the floor and offered no resistance when you pushed him against the wall and started unbuttoning his shirt.

He closed his eyes when his back touched the wall, his body shuddering under your touch. He knew he should have stopped you, but reason and logic went right out the window when you touched him.

His breathing hitched as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. He braced himself for more, but nothing came. Startled, he opened his eyes and found you staring at the scar on his shoulder.

You had never seen his scar, though you remembered the way it had felt under your fingertips. Seeing it now was unnerving, not because it was puckered and discoloured, but because you realised you had never paid attention to it before. You hadn’t cared enough to notice it.

Thing had changed between you, and this new realisation gave you the push you needed to talk with him. You couldn’t bury your head in the sand and pretend you didn’t love him.

“Does it still hurt?” you asked, not meeting his eyes.

“Not as much as seein you cry,” Bucky replied quietly.

You didn’t know what to say. He placed his hands on your hips, a gentle reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere, and moved his thumbs in small circles. The gesture was comforting and helped to relieve some of the tension.

“When I said I wanted to see you tonight,” he spoke calmly, looking you in the eye, “it wasn’t because I wanted t’have sex with you. There’s somethin I’ve been meanin to tell you, and I thought it’d be easier to talk when it’s just the two of us…. but it’s not.”

“Tell me,” you begged, your voice just above a whisper. “Please.”

His biggest fear was that you might laugh in his face, but one look at your eyes told him all he needed to know and his fear simply vanished.

“You gotta understand that I’d never thought I’d find someone who I can be myself around. It’s easier to pretend I don’t need anyone. And it doesn’t matter if no one ever loves me.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Then I met you,” he gauged your expression, saw the smirk on your face. “Okay, granted it took me a few years to really see you-”

“More like a decade,” you teased, relieved to hear him say those words. “Was it hate at first sight?”

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. “More seriously, doll, I never hated you. We’re both passionate people with strong opinions-”

“Like what you should and shouldn’t put on your pizza?” you said in a serious tone, but the twitching corners of your mouth gave you away.

“Exactly,” he played along, “and I’m glad I won this argument.”

“Actually-” you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “-it was a draw.”  

It made Bucky’s heart stutter, brought him back to the night you were babysitting Sophie. He put his arms around your waist and drew you close. He had missed the banter between you.

His eyes softened. “You’re incredible, y’know that?” The way you bent your head to hide a smile was the most beautiful thing Bucky had ever seen, and he struggled not to stare at you. “I want to spend time with you. I wanna know what makes you happy and what makes you sad.”

You played with the ends of his shirt, not meeting his eyes. “I want that, too,” you told him quietly. “But it’s not easy letting people in. Sometimes people just disappear and you never see them again.”

Bucky remembered the story you told him about your friend. You pushed people away because you were terrified of losing them. He suddenly realized how lonely your life must have been.

“I’m right here,” he said, “I ain’t goin anywhere.”

Minutes passed before you finally lifted your head. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Bucky had asked himself that question many times, but the answer was actually quite simple. He had been bullied, beaten, ridiculed, and he had almost stopped believing he would ever find someone he could share all this with. Until you.

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and looked at you

“It’s hard for me to trust people, to open up, to love,” he cupped the side of your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone. “But it’s so easy when I’m with you.”

He watched as your tongue darted out to lick your lips, and something inside him stirred. Something beyond desire or want. Instinctively, he closed his eyes and let you come to him. He had never kissed you before. It was one of the rules. No kissing.

You pressed your mouth to his, testing the waters. It was just a peck on the lips, and it left him wanting more.

Then he felt your arm snake around his waist, your other hand resting flat on his bare chest. He tightened his hold on you when you kissed him again.

Bucky lost himself in the kiss, your bodies pressed against each other. You parted his lips with your tongue, deepening the kiss.

Oh God, your mouth was amazing! He knew you liked being in control, but that kiss was something else.

You trailed kisses down his throat, smiling against his skin when he let out a sigh of pleasure. He jerked his head back so hard that he hit the wall, baring his neck to you. You giggled and sucked a bruise on his neck, taking full advantage of this new position.

“Mine,” you said, pecking his parted lips one last time.

He pressed his fingers against the purple mark on his neck. “Did you just-” he trailed off, his eyes dark with desire.

Laughing quietly, you hooked your fingers through his belt loops and yanked him closer. He followed you into the bedroom, fumbling slightly with his shirt. He dropped it on the floor and walked you backwards towards the bed.

Bucky playfully tried to bite your neck, and you giggled, squirming in his arms. You both fell on the bed, laughing like children. Once you had calmed down, you started running your hands up and down his bare back while his palms drifted along your ribcage under your shirt.

His skin felt hot and smooth, and you let out a deep appreciative purr when his muscles flexed under your touch. He caught your lips in another soul-searing kiss while his hand moved along your thigh.

You broke the kiss only long enough to pull your shirt over your head and toss it aside. Bucky hooked your leg over his hip and groaned when you started kissing his neck.

He tilted his head to the side, giving you better access. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted the New York City snow globe on your bedside table. He remembered the promise he had made to himself –that if you gave him a chance, he’d take things slow.

“Wait,” he said, too quietly for you to hear. “Sweetheart, wait.”

You stiffened and lifted your head so you could meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“We should slow down,” he whispered.

“It’s not a big deal. We’ve had sex before, Bucky.”

“It’s more than just sex. We’ve known each other for years, but we never took the time to get to know each other. I like you, doll, I like you a lot, and I don’t wanna ruin this. Let me take you on a date, let me sweep you off your feet. I promise you won’t regret it.”

It took you a moment to process his words before you were able to answer. “You’re right.” You pressed your mouth to his. “Can you stay here tonight? No sex, just… I don’t want to be alone.”

“I told you,” he said, “I’m here and I ain’t goin anywhere.”

“I like you, Bucky.” You smiled at him. “And I also really like when you call me ‘sweetheart’.”

He blushed at that. “It slipped out.”

He rolled onto his back and brought you with him, a sense of contentment settling over him. You rested your cheek on his chest, relishing the warm and strength of his embrace. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep, with you safe in his arms.

* * *

end.


End file.
